


Lay Me Down on a Bed of Roses

by silenceinmolasses



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexuality, Chikan, Dubious Morality, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Misogyny (just in case), Multi, Other, POV Second Person, Public Sex, Subways, Threesome (kinda), Victim Blaming (just in case), Voyeurism, asexual character doing stupid shit, dirtybadwrong, this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 03:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3103331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenceinmolasses/pseuds/silenceinmolasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A person who tries to be unrecognized, a pretty girl, an asexual person with no morals whatsoever and a crowded subway. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay Me Down on a Bed of Roses

**Author's Note:**

> A little rant: I am sick and tired of asexual people constantly being portrayed as victims so I wrote this little piece of dirtybadwrong. Have fun, dear reader.

The subway was crowded just like every evening but not enough that you wouldn’t be able to shove some tired businessmen and old women with colorful umbrellas aside and sit - more like fall - in the tiny space of the bench farthest from the door. The woman next to you sneered and you scowled back at her. Screw them, you were tired too, all day trying to work with a constantly jamming copy machine after a certain coworker made the secretary cry; you went for some coffee afterwards.

You licked the corner of your lips; creamy and too-sweet taste tickled your tongue and you relaxed a bit, your head rolling to almost touch the glass. And now forty minutes trip home where you would boil some pricy noodles and, supposing you still had some chicken left, make a sauce with meatballs and maybe ‘shrooms? Red pepper? Either way, have a good meal and a long night rest before coming back to the piles of documents tomorrow.

While you were day-dreaming, the plastic voice familiarly announced the next stop and the mass of people around shifted. That annoying woman with spicy perfumes left (you immediately used the space to spread your legs) and then a cheap leather bag almost smacked you in the face. You rolled your eyes and leant back some more. Oh, well, that was a pretty thing.

The bag-owner was a young lady with straight light hair and a lipstick a shade too bright. She was clothed a bit too cold for the season: a short-sleeved white blouse, pearl buttons matching the necklace, and a rather tight black skirt with ornamented pantyhose. She looked like right out of the university, maybe your age. She was slouching a bit, bright-nailed fingers gripping the bag; she looked behind her for a second. Her eyes were big and grey, the way she bit her lip was endearing and, whenever she moved her shoulders, you could catch a glimpse of her bra strap. What a cute little thing; if you weren’t so tired you would probably try to take a picture. Oh wait, your phone was dead.

You closed your eyes for a minute and slowly opened them again. Perhaps more time passed than you thought as the doll’s cleavage was somewhat closer than before: her small supple breasts rising and falling quite rapidly; her fingers on the pole were white-knuckled and she shifted. Hmm?

She grunted uncomfortably. Could it be that… The person behind her with golden goggles you would really want to own stood too close for comfort. You raised your eyebrow and blinked. They were higher than her, the head hidden under a dark hoodie; their clothes were loose but you could still see the wide line of their shoulders. And what was more? They definitely had their hand on the girl’s ass. And she could probably feel it rather good, judging by her pained expression and the tightness of the skirt.

Shit, why all interesting stuff had to happen when you were so sleepy? Well, of course, there were no trains without perverts and there was nothing unique but that person was trying so hard to blend into the crowd that you could imagine them planning… this. Whatever this was: rubbing the girl’s ass, fingers splayed wide, sliding slowly up and down where her ass crack was. They could probably feel the outline of her panties. You imagined that her underwear matched the rosy bra she had on.

These thoughts made your breath catch in your throat. You bit your tongue as she whimpered above you. You concentrated on her cleavage, the necklace with a glass butterfly swinging lazily back and forth; you don’t really want to meet her eyes in case you were smiling. She must be scared, poor thing; the person was pressing up against her, breathing right on her neck.

You glimpsed lower: the skirt was hiked quite high, showing you fully where the ornaments of her pantyhose reached the crotch area. Yes, you were right, her panties were pink. What a VIP place to sit. She was trying close her legs but the tanned hand almost effortlessly slipped in between her slender thighs, thumb rubbing in front.

She whined, gripping the pole. You cleared your dry throat, crossing your legs. Arousal pulsed persistently like a clock and you slid your eyes higher, stopping on the little velvet rose in between bra cups. You could clearly see it now, as they halfway unbuttoned her blouse.

The angel was blushing: it looked like paint on her milky skin, slowly spreading up her neck into her cheeks. Her hair was wet with sweat and, by her tightly closed eyes, you could deduce that they put their hand inside her panties. She moaned quietly, breathing fast, legs spreading without her volition.

They pressed her closer to their chest, planting a few wet kisses on her neck. You stare with fascination as they rip her pantyhose so that it would easier to lower her panties. The sweet and musky smell of arousal enchanted you and you sighed softly rubbing your thighs together. You, surprisingly, still felt absurdly sleepy.

She muttered something above you; it sounded like a sugar mixture off pleases and stops and waits and when you opened your eyes again, you could tell that mysterious person was looking at you. They smirked at your obviously dilated pupils and thrusted her like a puppet towards you. You leaned back, needing a moment to take everything in: the gold-tinted goggles which you still want very much, their fingers thrusting into her, the girl’s open plush mouth. You were excited and it felt like swimming in a cotton candy sea.

They pulled her bra down, revealing her caramel nipples, hard as pebbles. She wanted this as much as you two; good to know. Her agile breasts heaved, full and tender, and you almost had a dilemma. You were probably supposed to have a dilemma ten minutes ago but what gives?, so you licked the pads of your fingers and circled her nipple. Softly pinched it, rubbed it, and that, together with long fingers squirming in her cunt, made her gasp rather loudly.

They snickered before cradling her head and putting their tongue in her mouth for her to suck on. She whimpered, almost tearfully, and you shifted closer. Her pretty tits were right in front of you, nipples wet with your spit. You brushed your cheek against the softness and caught a nipple in your mouth. You sucked it maybe a bit too noisily, circling your tongue around the hard nub. It tasted almost sweet and you suckled for a minute or so before releasing it and relaxing on the bench. You could clearly see she liked it: in the way her hips rhythmically contracted, hands lax, the leather bag on the floor.

You bent down to pick it up and helpfully hanged in on her wrist. You beamed at the large fingers massaging her clit and wondered whether you missed your stop yet.


End file.
